


Purgatory, or "This looks a lot easier in the vids."

by honeybee592



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 09:12:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1381954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeybee592/pseuds/honeybee592
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While enjoying some much needed shore leave, the crew find themselves in Purgatory, but Shepard and James can't keep their hands off each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Purgatory, or "This looks a lot easier in the vids."

They’d slowly gravitated closer together, joined at the hip, not letting each other go, teasing each other all night: a casual arm around the waist, a pat on the ass, a hand slipped down a back pocket. James’d started whispering filthy things in Shepard’s ear a few rounds back, a heady mixture of Spanish, English, and a smattering of dirty quarian words he’d picked up from Tali. He listed all the things he wanted to do to her when they got back to the ship and she’d grin and blush, then pull him in tight, dig her fingers into his waist and burying her face in his neck. The heat from her kisses rode in waves straight south.

The evening had started off innocently enough. Shepard had ordered ‘proper’ shore leave,  _civvies guys, no uniforms_ , and everyone was determined to have a good time. Their small group had wandered into Purgatory, looking like a regular bunch of friends just out for a night on the town. No one needed to know that the two Spectres and one turian in the party were packing enough firepower to take out any mercs who threatened their evening. Beers were downed, burgers devoured. Laughter and stories passing over the table, the  _good old days_ . James tightened his grip on Shepard, relishing Garrus’ retelling of Grunt’s rite-of-passage, and how Shepard broke into and recruited Jack from one of the most high-security prison ships in the galaxy. Yep, that’s his woman right there, Commander Shepard, bad-ass and so god-damn sexy.

Before long, Shepard and James had worked themselves into a corner, half participating in the conversations, half grinding against each other. He couldn’t help himself. She smelled like spent heatsinks and that flowery shit she showered with. He buried his nose in her hair, raking his fingers through it, getting drunk on that smell as well as all the beer.

“I know you’re both in heat, or whatever. But you should probably take it back to the ship, or tone it down.” Garrus said at one point. He flicked his mandibles, giving each of them a hard stare before leaning back. Like he could talk: Tali draped herself over him and Garrus let out an exasperated sigh. James and Shepard just giggled and smooched outrageously, prompting Tali to get even more handsy with her turian boyfriend.

They did manage to behave for a while though. Shepard even having a heated argument with Joker about FTL navigation. James watched the play with a lopsided grin, not really sure what either of them were talking about. He missed the heat, the play, the ache. While Shepard made an impassioned point about the laws of physics and mass effect fields, he slipped his hand under her shirt, skimming her back. Without breaking her stride, she leaned back into him, just enough to encourage him. When he dipped in and kissed her neck, her argument coming to a stuttering halt.

And they were back in their own world again, Joker and physics forgotten.

“Fuck. I need you now.” She groaned into his ear.

“Right now?” He asked, fingers slipping over her denim-clad thighs and between her legs. A shiver ran through her as he stroked her through the fabric.

“Yes.” She twisted around, facing him, pupils blown, the heat and passion in her eyes causing James’ dick to twitch. He raised an eyebrow, gave her a cocky grin, unsure if they were thinking the same thing.

“I’m gonna go pee. And you’re going to join me in two minutes,” she whispered, planting an index finger over his lips. He let her go, mirroring her wicked grin. She sidled out, palming him on her way, a squeeze with promises of things to come. So, they weren’t quite thinking the same thing, but her idea was infinitely better than his. Really, taking her back to the ship and fucking her into the mattress. What had he been thinking? Shepard always had the best ideas.

It was the longest two minutes of James’ life. He feigned interest in what Kaidan and Joker were talking about, not paying enough attention to get drawn in. Sipping on his beer, he glanced at the old-school analogue clock on his omnitool, the second hand moving so slowly he thought time might start going backwards.

When two minutes and four seconds had passed, James made sure the others were deep in conversation, then he took his leave. With as much control and subtlety as he could muster, he made his way to the bathrooms. Taking a peek around, he slipped into the Ladies. Each stall was self-contained, walls and door going to the ceiling, like the Gents. Maybe this kind of thing happened here a lot. All the doors bar one were ajar. With a grin, he strode up to the closed door. But then knocked tentatively, still not convinced that they were really going to do this.

Shepard yelled out a curse, indicating the room’s occupant.

“It’s me, Lola.” James called, hand on the handle, shoulder against the door. He stumbled when it jerked open. Shepard pulled him in, slamming the door shut and shoving him against the wall. She crushed herself against him, kissing him furiously, yanking his shirt up to claw at his skin, all heat and no grace. Fuck, he wanted her, but here, in the Purgatory toilets? Any hesitation disappeared when he realised his belt buckle and fly were undone, jeans and briefs being pushed down his thighs. She gripped him roughly, tugging his cock. His head knocked against the wall as he groaned.

“Fuck, you really want it, don’t you?” He breathed. Her hand left him, but her body wasn’t far away, her feet and knees bumping his. With the sound of clothes rustling and another fly unzipping, he caught up with the play.

“Put this on.” She shoved a condom in his hand and he just gaped for a moment. Yeah, they were really doing this. Ripping the wrapper and rolling it on, time slowed and he was suddenly hyper aware of his surroundings: the confines of the small stall, even smaller because of James’ bulk. The fluorescent light casting an unflattering glare over the both of them. The toilet behind Shepard, making a gurgling noise and smelling faintly of disinfectant. The long mirror on the back of the door,  _all the better to watch yourself piss?_ The smudges and stains already on the maroon walls. His gaze settled on Shepard. Her face flushed, grin wicked, eyes sparkling.  _And trouserless, it seems._

She wrapped her hand around his cock again, her body pressing into his, her shirt unbuttoned to her navel,  _when had she managed to do that?_ , breasts pressing against his chest, face buried in his neck, planting sloppy kisses all along his tattoo.  _Shit. She’s wearing_ that _bra. The purple one that pushes her boobs up just so._

He wrapped an arm around her waist, relishing the grind of her hand on his cock. So far he’d done nothing other than put a condom on. He’d just letting her take control, yank his pants down and call the shots. Not because he wanted her to, but because he couldn’t keep up with her.

“Fuck me.” Shepard whispered the command, hot breath and lips brushing his earlobe, one hand raking fingernails over the back of his head.

He snapped back to reality, time picking up speed again.

He pushed himself off the wall, Shepard stumbling back, giving him some room maneuver so he could wrap his arms under her ass and hoist her up like she weighed nothing. He held her under her thighs, her legs splayed wide around his waist, one hand still squished between them as she guided him in.  _Fuck_ . All doubts he had about doing it in Purgatory evaporated as she sank down and buried him deep. She held on tight, arms wrapped around his neck.  _Don’t worry. I’ve got you,_ he whispered. At his words, she pulled back to stare deep into his eyes. She wasn’t worried at all. She was desperate: set jaw, blown pupils, pink cheeks, disheveled hair.  _Yes. Perfect._

James gave an experimental thrust and they began an awkward dance.  _This looks a lot easier in the vids_ . But then she’d hooked her ankles behind his ass and fuck, if that doesn’t drive her in close. He stifled a groan, remembering that he was standing in the ladies’ with his trousers around his knees and  _Commander fucking Shepard_ wrapped around him, fucking him like it’s their last night alive. Could very well be their last night alive.

Soon enough they got the balance and speed just right so he wouldn’t slip out. Shit. He wasn’t gonna last long at this rate. Probably shouldn’t spend more time than’s necessary, anyway. Shepard gave one of his biceps a squeeze, the muscle taut under her touch and he buried a moan into her neck.

“This okay?” She asked, slipping her hand under the collar of his tee-shirt, fingers inching down his back.

“It’s fucking fantastic” he growled out. This had all the urgency that their sex usually lacked. No way James could employ his usual tactic of teasing her. Slowly. Deliberately. There was no grace in this. It was fucking, pure and simple. Quick and dirty and rough, and, James had to admit, when he had the chance to form a thought, incredibly hot.

“I mean, I’m not too heavy?”

Too heavy? He was James Fucking Vega. Didn’t lift all those weights for nothing. To prove it, he reached around, splaying his hand under her ass, letting go with his other to flex his bicep. He flashed her a cocky grin before planting a wet kiss on her chin. Okay, so he’d been aiming for her mouth, but he was having to coordinate a lot of things here, and since when had sex ever gone perfectly?

“Fucking showoff”, Shepard growled. “Come on, then. Harder.” She pushed her chest into his, one hand raking through his mohawk, hot breathless kisses on his neck, cunt squeezing down on his cock.

“Yes ma’am”. He gripped her with both hands again, turning around, slamming her back into the wall. With the wall providing some support, he adjusted his grip, holding onto her with one arm again as he slipped his free hand between them, stroking her haphazardly. There was no holding back their moans as they upped their speed, thrusting harder, more desperate as they reached their peaks. James felt the change in her breath, felt the spasms of her thighs as her body neared its release. He returned both hands to her ass again. Pumped two, three more times. A mumbled string of profanities interspersed with his name, fingernails digging into his shoulders, just this side of painful, then a spasm that even had him struggling to keep his grip signaled her orgasm. But she didn’t stop, barely slowed down. She bared down on him and he ground his teeth and kept going.  _Close. So fucking close._ Shepard took his earlobe between her lips and sucked.  _Hard_ . Funny how that turned him on so much, how it was his undoing. He came, pausing on an up-thrust before pushing up again, gaining leverage on the balls of his feet, holding her in place, fingers clawing into her ass as he shuddered to a halt.

Shepard pulled back, cradling his cheeks with both hands, planting a soft kiss on his lips--a surprisingly tender gesture given the rough urgency from only moments before.

He let her down gently, and just leaned back against the wall, taking in a deep breath. Shepard though, she was all business again: jeans off the floor, kicking one leg in, then the other. Fly zipped and belt buckled, shoes on. She combed her fingers through her hair, attempting to return her ponytail to order. James watched her in the mirror on the back of the door, watched through lust dazed eyes as those breasts danced in that plunge bra while her hands worked behind her head. She winked at his reflection, snapping the tie, satisfied that her hair was now presentable. All that was left were the buttons on her shirt.

“Let me,” he said as she started fastening them. He yanked his jeans up, sitting them loosely over his hips as he stepped over, leaning into her back and wrapped his arms around her front. Slowly, he fingered each button into place, nuzzling her neck all the while. Fingers subtly grazing her breasts as he made his way up her shirt.

“You’re such a fucking romantic” Shepard drawled as he fingered the last button in place.

“Says the woman who just had dirty bar sex.” He murmured.

She pulled out of his embrace, turned to face him, cupping his cheeks.

“If anyone asks, I was on a call, Spectre business. And you… you were doing…” She trailed off, waved her hand. “Just, make up something plausible.”

With that, she unlocked the door, walked out, and closed it hard behind her.

James relocked the door. Holy hell. He’d just fucked Commander Shepard in the Purgatory toilets. He grinned wildly. He wanted to yell it from the fucking roof tops so loud they could hear it from the Presidium all the way to the Wards. He couldn’t get that stupid grin off his face as he disposed of the evidence, fastened his belt, tucked his shirt back in. He peeked around the door, checking his exit strategy. With a quick stop to wash his hands and laugh at his reflection in the mirror,  _James Vega, you are a king_ , he rounded the main door and slipped back into the club.

Drinks seems like a plausible enough excuse for his absence. But in his fuck-addled brain, he’d forgotten everyone’s favourites, so he just bought a pile of shots. The lurid purple made his stomach curl. But maybe that was memory of Shepard’s bra and those breasts pushed up against his chest.

He weaved his way over to the table, glancing between the tray filled with shots and the most incredible woman in the galaxy. She was absorbed in conversation with Scars, not a button or hair out of place. Perfect. Delicious.

James acted like nothing had happened as he handed out the shots. Shepard drew him in for a long slow kiss so he missed the look Kaidan and Garrus shared. When Shepard pulled back, that fire in her eyes again, he smirked, thinking he’s so great for getting away with something so wicked.

“Now, I may just be a battered old turian who knows nothing about anything, but even  _I_ can smell what you’ve been up to.” Garrus eyed James and Shepard pointedly.

"Don’t know what you’re talking about, Scars,” James grinned and knocked back his shot. Shepard at least had the dignity to blush.

 


End file.
